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Mother3

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A city pregnant of its own filth, desolate piles of rot hidden behind a sparkling facade. And the sentries stalk the streets, always. Dissent is dealt with deadly swiftness. So all that remains are those who have deluded themselves into feeling happiness in this squalor. And this hate filled city will give birth to the end.

Other Submissions by Elobo

[ebff2011] A mind encroaching upon itself. Such useless bravado, such wasteful swagger. This facade, is this how you see yourself? Your meager veneer is crippled, your psyche squeezes in upon itself. You had courage, it's been shattered. Now you see clearly. You see just how great of an adversary you are yourself. The illusion rent asunder, innocence ground to a pulp. All that is left is desperation. For the world, for your friends, for yourself.

They held sway over nature and thus over our lives. The sacred land Dalaam was sealed behind a wall of rock, mortals were not allowed to enter. We were trapped, with an increasingly dwindling ration of rain to get us by. Our provinces grew desperate, feudal war erupted across the land. We were trying to appease the two gods that tormented us so, at any cost, to become their sole favour. When they commissioned their garments, staff, and blade, one man instead stole away into the night with them. Armed only with his own conviction and introspection, he arrived at the gate and fought his way through the demon hordes. The gods raged, the world shook. They came down to the surface to punish him, but he did not fight. With a mystic key, disguised as a carrot to appear unspectacular, an imprisoning spell was released, binding them to the planet and trapping their rage. His staff soaked in the power of the heavens, which he would refine and use as the Star Master. Thunder and Storm were quelled, though they can be still felt whenever their bouts of rage peak.

Can you find the strength to laugh in your useless, frozen body? This beast that stands before you is horribly mishapen, a head that seems to dominate its body. It's breath chills the blood in your veins beyond freezing. The air around it hangs still, a haunting calm before it issues forth your bubbling red froth. You numbly grope for something... anything to use as a weapon. But more of their comically bulbous forms seem to coalesce from the ripping eddies of the blizzard. You find no other recourse but to throw your head back and laugh as the mountain closes in to take you.

An interesting scroll depicts creatures we long thought extinct or mere myth. In the depths there are two mortal enemies in the Carbon Dogs and Chomposaurs. Though they are bitter foes, the dogs tend to avoid conflict. But the cruel Chomopsaurs will massacre young dogs whenever possible. The alpha of the pack assumes the strange power of the Diamond Dog in its rage and sorrow, and a mortal battle begins. A rolling maelstrom of tooth and claw... fire and earth. Titans locked in mortal combat. The diamond teeth sink into the great serpents neck as stamina gives way and its body slowly and painfully turns to mineral. It thrashes for all its worth in a final attempt to make sure the fight would have no survivors.